Intensive Treatment with Dr J
by extremebabymakeover
Summary: The Joker has taken over Arkham Asylum, and now even Batman is rendered powerless as the homicidal clown locks him into a cell and treats him like a psychotic patient. Is he doing this for the pure fun of it, or is there a message he's trying to get across to the vigilante? Joker/Batman slash, you've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

It was storming.

The old ceiling lights flickered on and off, casting strange shadows along the walls, adding an eerie quality to the already maddening energy of the Asylum. Stretcher wheels squeaked loudly against the dirt-encrusted, blood-splattered linoleum flooring, echoing down the hallway that lead to the Intensive Treatment Facility where, despite what the "doctors" and "psychiatrists" said, not much real treatment actually went on.

It was here that The Joker, through a lack of careful planning, still managed to take over.

No one saw it coming.

One moment everything was going as scheduled - the orderlies were going around, room after room, injecting patients with mysterious drugs and lying them down in their piss-stained, bug-infested mattresses - then, suddenly, nurses were disappearing and showing up in pieces scattered around the building, doctors were strapped to operation tables by crazed patients, and poisonous gases were flooding the rooms, killing off countless orderlies and security guards.

And now, here in this dirty, hopeless Asylum, Gotham's very own Dark Knight could be seen restrained to an upright stretcher, doped out on a combination of opiates and the latest edition of Scarecrow's "fear toxin" as he was wheeled away by the crazed clown himself.

_"Welcome to Arkham Asylum -** scrEeEEEAaK** - Welcome to Arkham Asylum -** screEeEeeaaAk** - Welcome to- Welc- Welcome to Ark - Arkham Asylum"_

Batman groaned quietly, noting the throbbing pain that started at his temple, ran through his neck and then down his spine. He picked up the faint, echo-y sound of laughter, but he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not.

He had no idea what was "real" anymore. He'd been injected with Scarecrow's toxin so many times, he was afraid that he finally went over the deep end and embraced insanity.

After being forced into a world of delusion so many times, your mind starts to adapt to this new perception of life, whether you like it or not.

He faded in and out of conciousness as The Joker blabbered on and on to him about something or another- he could never clearly pick up on anything said, but he knew it was him, even if he never opened his eyes to see. The pungent aroma of gunpowder, chemicals, and makeup was enough to verify his presence to the surprisingly still-costumed vigilante.

"And so I said - ah, you're not even listening, _are_ you, Batsy?"

Batman moaned in pain and wondered why he couldn't move his limbs.

"At least _pretend_ to care," The Joker frowned, "You really hurt my feelings sometimes, you know that?"

"Mistah J, he's knocked out, he can't hear ya'"

"Shut up, Harley."

"Yes, Mistah J..." Harley mumbled weakly.

Batman struggled to pick up on the things going on around him, much to his annoyance. What he felt, heard, and thought all warped together as one, and the idea of opening his eyes to take in any more information overwhelmed him, but he couldn't just_ lie there_ and _cooperate_ with his arch-nemesis. At the same time, he needn't waste his energy - there was nothing he could do at this point.

_Damn._

"What ah' we gonna do with the stinkin' Bat anyway?" Harley asked, twirling her gun around. She imagined shoving that gun in the Bat's mouth and doing away with him once and for all - there have been too many occasions where Batman interrupted her and Mister J's special private alone time, and she hated how he tormented her Puddin'. She couldn't recall the last time she saw The Joker sleep, and she practically had to force food down his throat, or else he wouldn't touch it.

She wanted Batman out of the picture already so that she could settle down with her lovin' Sweetheart.

"Harley," The Joker started, stopping in his tracks and cupping her cheek in his hand, "Do I, ah, need to _take away_ your gun privileges?"

The harlequin froze up, "N-n-no Mistah J," she let out a nervous giggle, "Nuthin' tah worry about with me!"

The Joker grinned, "Good!" and pinched her cheek, before skipping back to the stretcher to continue pushing it along.

"Because," he continued, stroking Batman's mask, "If you lay one finger on my bestest best friend in the whole wide world!" (he took a moment to pull himself back together - he always got really excited when mentioning his friendship with Batman) "then the hired workers will be mopping you off the floors for the next few days."

Harley gulped, "Y-yes Mistah J."

When he wasn't looking, she stuck her tongue out at The Joker and proceeded to pout as she glared angrily at the vigilante.

"Ah, we're here!" The Joker exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, "If you're a good little Bat, I'll bring in some snacks for you later on, and maybe we can even share secrets and braid eachother's hair!"

Harley grumbled to herself about how he never does those kinds of things with her as she unstrapped Batman.

The Joker stumbled as he lifted Batman off the stretcher and into his cell, and then sighed in contentment.

"Home sweet home, eh Batsy?" he giggled, scratching behind the pointy ears of his mask. He skipped happily on his way out, slamming the door and locking it up tight.

Batman could hear The Joker's chilling laughter as he skipped down the hall, before he fell back into a much-needed deep sleep.

* * *

Alright - Chapter one, finished and posted.

This is based off of the comic Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, as well as the videogame, Batman: Arkham Asylum

Don't forget to review! They help me out a lot when it comes to finding motivation to continue writing.

Hope you enjoyed this so far!

-Lee


	2. Chapter 2

_Bruce stared horrified at the image of his parents, dead, lying on the wet, trash-ridden streets. Sirens could be heard in the distance, along with some faint yelling, as well as the play that continued to go on inside the theatre._

_Everyone was oblivious to what had just occurred._

_Bruce struggled to catch his breath as he fell to his knees, shaking, hoping he would wake up and find that it was a dream, and that his dad was in his office working on some papers, and his mother was making tea and waiting for him to come downstairs for some breakfast._

_He let out a broken sob as he pawed desperately at the two, begging them to get up, though he knew - they were dead. They wouldn't wake up._

_Nothing would be the same._

_It seemed this moment lasted for hours, him sitting there, crying and grabbing at his parents, praying that this wasn't really happening._

_Images of bats flooded his mind, flying toward him, tangling his hair and nipping at his skin._

_He screamed and cried and begged for mercy but they kept flying at him in groups, attacking him, as if they would carry him off into the caves and never let him go._

Bruced closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the bats were gone, and so were his parents.

Startled, he blinked wildly and looked around, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness that surrounded him. He was in a holding cell, he realized - in... Arkham?

_No... had he...?_

His heart raced in his chest as he struggled to remember what happened, hoping that he hadn't gotten himself admitted to the Asylum, until suddenly everything came flooding back to him in a horrifying, yet relieving wave.

"Joker..." he grumbled to himself, closing his eyes and clenching his fists.

Letting out a shaky sigh, he looked down - despite the fact that his mask remained untouched, his costume was replaced with an orange jumpsuit - the standard among the patients of Arkham.

He furrowed his eyebrows - why hadn't the clown taken his mask as well? Not that he was complaining, but The Joker didn't seem like the type of guy who would respect his wishes for privacy.

"BOO!"

Batman jumped, nearly falling out of his bed, and searched wildly for the source of the voice.

"Yoo hoo, under here, Batsy!" The Joker giggled, tickling his toes from underneath the bed. Batman jerked his feet up and let the crazed clown crawl out and stand up. He brushed the dirt off of his clothes and straightened himself out before peering back at the masked vigilante.

"Did we have a nice bat-nap?" He asked, giggling madly, "You didn't seem very comfy, you kept_ thrashing_ around and_ crying_."

"You were watching me?" Batman growled.

"Don't get your hopes up, Bat brains!" The Joker hopped up next to the man, crossing his legs and grinning at him, "it was for research purposes _only_."

"Research?" He questioned, before shaking his head and glaring at the madman, "You won't get away with this, Joker."

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!" The Joker wagged his finger disapprovingly at him, "That's _Doctor_ Joker to you!" he pushed up his glasses in mock-seriousness before falling victim to another fit of giggles.

The vigilante scoffed as he studied his arch-enemy's "new look". Though he still wore that garish face paint and his hair remained a bright green, he was dressed as a doctor, with a pair of glasses and a clipboard to match. He looked kind of "cleaned up" in a way, and smelled less like murder and more like ... cherries?

He gave a dry laugh, "You're no doctor - you're just a lunatic playing dress-up."

"I could say the saaaaame thing about you, _Sweetheart_." The Joker retorted, giving him a little wink.

Batman lunged forward to attack the clown when suddenly, a bolt of electricity shot through his body. He growled in pain and reached up to grab at the shock collar around his neck, which he hadn't realized was there until then, and turned to glare angrily at The Joker who simply sat there, laughing hysterically at the vigilante's pain.

He opened his mouth to say something, but The Joker pressed the button again, sending more and more bolts throughout his bruised body. After a few moments of this, he felt satisfied enough to stop, and giggled quietly.

He sniffed the air around him, furrowing his eyebrows, "Eh, Bats, do you smell toast?"

The Joker held his stomach and kicked his feet as he screamed with laughter, Batman's angry glare only making him laugh even more. His laughter suddenly ceased, and he wiped a tear from his eye, before clearing his throat and looking at his clipboard.

"Says here that we've got a classic case of multiple personality disorder with delusions of grandeur. How interesting!" He started, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of Batman, "What is it that, ah, _pushed_ you over the deep end, hm, Batsy? Girlfriend burned alive by the mob? Watching daddy beat up mommy? Something like that, something like that..."

The Joker sighed, looking up from his clipboard and frowning at the masked man, "What is it? Bat got your tongue?"

He snorted and mentally pat himself on the back for that one, before walking back over to the vigilante, who seemed to have shut himself down completely. The clown felt a sting of panic, having never seen Batman react in such a way to his antics before - had he hit a nerve? That idea replaced his anxiety with excitement, and he found himself grinning madly at the uncharacteristically quiet vigilante.

"But why a bat, hm?" he continued, studying his enemy's mask. He reached out to touch it, but Batman grabbed his wrist, embedding his fingernails into his flesh. The Joker barely reacted at first, simply raising an eyebrow, before making a fit out of trying to pry his hand off of him. He hopped from foot to foot, whining and prying at his hand, as if he were a child.

He then sighed, staring with a slight frown at the vigilante's tough grip. He clicked his tongue and sat down next to him, patting his hand affectionately.

"There there, let out all your frustrations, Doctor J is here for you." The Joker snickered and then spoke into the tiny microphone attached to the collar of his shirt, "Haaaaaaaarley!"

"Yes, Puddin'?"

"Schedule dinner a few hours late - Batsy here is being uncooperative."

"Yes, Mistah' J!"

The Joker turned to look back at Batman, who still hadn't loosened the death grip on his wrist, and pondered his silence for a few moments before squeezing his hand and then reaching into his pocket.

"Nighty night, Bats!"

Before the vigilante could react, The Joker shoved a needle into his arm and injected the sedatives into his blood. He watched his muscles visibly relax, and his eyelids flutter, before he let go of the madman's wrist and slumped down, trying desperately to fight off sleep.

"Do you need me to sing you a lullaby?" He purred, receiving one last angry grunt from the man before his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open.

With a slight push, he layed his enemy down into the dirty, old mattress. He placed a thin sheet over his body, and then mockingly kissed where his forehead would be, if it wasn't covered by that mask of his, before letting out a long sigh and studying the man before him.

The crazed clown fought off the aching desire to rip off the bat mask and averted his attention to his wrist that had already begun to bruise and swell. He prodded at it, biting his lip excitedly at the sharp pain. Bruises and scrapes from The Batman were always welcome.

He briefly wondered if Batman felt the same about his own injuries, before standing up and looking over the man one last time.

All kinds of heartbreaking scenarios danced around in his mind as he locked up the cell door, hell-bent on getting Batman to spill the beans about what exactly drove him to raiding the nearest Party City store for a Batsuit so that he could fly around beating justice into everyone's faces.

The Joker smiled smugly as he danced happily down the hallway, humming a made-up tune and hugging the clipboard against his chest in excitement.


	3. Chapter 3

**septimaluna:** Yeah, no matter what Harley does, it seems The Joker only has eyes for Batman. Poor girl.

**IamBatgirl:** I'm glad you love it so far! That definitely motivates me to continue writing more a.s.a.p!

Thank you both for reviewing, and anyone who favourited/followed this story! xoxo

* * *

**_We apologize for this interruption to our regular broadcast. Jack Ryder is live from the Gotham Bay area with some breaking news. _**

The Joker giggled and nudged Harley with his elbow, pointing to the radio in front of them.

_**This is Jack Ryder with breaking news in the Gotham Bay. We're getting reports of an armed siege on Arkham Island.** _

The clown mouthed along to the broadcast mockingly. Harley grinned and pet his wild green hair.

**_Two minutes ago, Joker broadcast to all news channels this chilling message:_**

"Hey, that's me!"

_Greetings Gotham. This is the voice of your new master - Oh, hang on... haha! I skipped a bit! AHEM. Joker here! I'm in control of Arkham Island and you can all consider it out of bounds! If I see any lawmen, vigilantes, or do-gooders in tights coming this way, I'll start detonating random bombs around the city. What'll it be? A kindergarten? A hospital? A billionaire's mansion? Ohh, choices, choices, choices!_

**_All access to the island has been restricted, airspace is closed off, and early reports suggest that Batman himself is trapped on the island. We'll be right here, reporting live on any developments. Back to the studio._ **

**_Thanks, Jack. More as it happens. _**

The Joker slapped his knee and howled with laughter, "Everyone in Gotham must be going _bonkers_!"

"Ya' did good, Puddin'!"

He placed his hand lovingly on Harley's cheek and then sighed, "Speaking of the flying rodent, let's, ah, see what he's _up_ to."

Harley suppressed a groan as he whipped around and rolled his chair over to the cameras, where he was JUST sitting, right before the broadcast came on. She considered that maybe locking up Batman wasn't the best thing for his health right now as she begrudgingly followed him into the camera room.

The Joker sighed deeply, resting his chin in his hand, as he watched Batman doing absolutely nothing in his cell. He was just lying there, his hands resting calmly on his abdomen, as he stared at the ceiling.

The only time he saw Batman really responding emotionally to ANYTHING was when he was fighting off Scarecrow's fear toxin. Now _that_ was interesting, watching him groan and cry, though he never said anything that revealed much about why he was so upset.

If the fear toxin couldn't get it out of him, then he'd have to find another way.

Meanwhile, Harley frowned as she watched the madman's mood darken - she wished that she could do something to get him to cheer up, but any attempts at this point would just get her a beating. She didn't even understand _why_ he was so upset, anyway. He had Batman locked up in a cell, what more could he want?

Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his shoulder, which he only shook off.

"Is there anythin' I can do for ya', Puddin'?"

"Yeah," The Joker grumbled, not even turning around to look at her, "Why don't you go _flirt_ with the hired work like you always do."

She thought that was a weird order, but she nodded, "Well, alright, Mistah J."

As she turned around to go do just that, The Joker let out an irritated groan, before standing up and glaring angrily at her.

"JUST SIT HERE AND _DON'T_. _TOUCH_. _ANYTHING_!" He shouted, pushing her over to the chair. She sat down quickly and looked down at her feet, tears welling up in her eyes as she listened to him stomp out of the room and slam the door shut.

When she knew he was gone, she let out a few broken sobs and pulled her knees up to her chest.

- X -

Batman closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and then sighing. He could swear that any feelings of hope and empowerment left with every exhale, so he tried to hold his breath to see if it would help, until he realized how delusional he was being and stopped immediately.

When you've been locked up for so long, you start to forget what is considered socially acceptable, and just run with any thought that comes to mind. He hadn't even been in captivity for very long in comparison to the real inmates of the Asylum, yet he could already feel the line between sanity and insanity blurring.

_What was normal? What does "normal" even mean? Does it exist?_

He clenched his jaw - the place was starting to get to him.

If he could do anything at this point, it would be to make sure he didn't fall victim to the Asylum's spell. He needed to build his mind into a fortress, so that any intrusive thoughts couldn't reach him, and he could close his eyes and stay safe within the boundaries of his own head.

This was already proving to be a difficult task, so he concentrated to try and find a certain image he could focus on, as a sort of meditation technique.

He pictured himself sitting in the corner, shaking and clawing at himself, as a few nurses stormed inside to sedate him. His eyes shot open and he let out a tiny groan - he supposed that staring at the crack in the ceiling would work just as well.

Just as he began to feel the stress leave his body, he could hear The Joker singing down the hallway, coming toward his cell.

Batman clenched his fists and growled.

_He always knew how to show up at the worst of times, didn't he?_

"I feel_ pretty_, oh-so _pretty_! I feel_ pretty_ and _witty_ and_ briiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!_ And I pity any girl who isn't me tonight!"

The vigilante rolled his eyes at his choice of song.

"Batsy-poo, where are you?"

He could hear his bouncy footsteps coming his way.

"Are you... in here?"

The Joker peeked in an empty cell and then frowned, "Or are you..." he skipped over to another cell, "in here? No? Where did Batsy go?"

The madman started yelling, "Hello? Hello? Has anyone seen a flying _Bat_ sneaking around the premises? It's an _emergency_!"

He banged on the wall frantically, "Anyone know where Batman is?!"

He then skipped over to the correct cell and grinned, unlocking the door and swinging it open, "Peekaboo! I_ see_ you!"

"Stop playing games, Joker." Batman grumbled, refusing to even turn and look at him.

The Joker crossed his arms, "Do you know who you're speaking to?"

He didn't respond.

The clown giggled and bounced over to him, taking a seat at the end of the bed and peering at his clipboard.

"So, let's talk about yesterdays 'incident'." He did his best to mimic how the nurses spoke at Arkham.

"What 'incident'?" Batman mumbled, tracing a crack along the ceiling with his eyes. The Joker watched him do this for a moment before crossing his legs.

"Well, it says here that you were acting out toward one of the doctors."

"It was _Scarecrow_," Batman corrected him, turning to glare daggers at the madman, "and he tried using his fear toxin on me. _Again_."

He could see The Joker tense up. His eyes filled with rage.

"Funny. I don't recall telling him to give you any medication yesterday."

Batman was a little surprised at his reaction, but he brushed it off.

"I guess I'll have to have a little_ talk_ with Dr. Crane, won't I?" he growled, digging his nails into the clipboard.

His mood suddenly brightened, and he giggled innocently at the vigilante, "But, ah, back to _business_," he adjusted his glasses and then pulled them off, "I can't see with these things on!" and giggled maniacally before flinging them across the room.

"Any nightmares?"

Batman didn't respond.

"Hallucinations?"

Again, he remained silent.

The Joker sighed, "You're going to have to, ah, _cooperate_ with me if you want to get to the _bottom_ of your_ illness_."

This enraged the vigilante, and he sat up, slamming his fists into the mattress, "I. am not. _crazy_!"

The clown put his hands up in defence, "ah, ah, ah, _touchy_!"

Batman flared his nostrils, breathing heavily, "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" he yelled, picking his arm up to punch him across the face, until he remembered the shock collar. He decided upon hitting the mattress instead.

The Joker placed a hand on his shoulder, "Bats-"

"Don't touch me."

He pulled his hand back, "Now, _Bats_, you can't be released into society with your state of mind. It's for your _own good_."

The vigilante clenched his fists, glaring angrily at the crazed clown.

"Now, I bet you're hungry, huh Batsy?"

Batman sighed, noting the stabbing pain in his stomach - he was right. He hadn't eaten for days, and he needed to get something into him, or else he'd get sick.

"If you don't change your attitude soon, you'll be going without food again."

Batman bit on the inside of his cheek before giving in and nodding.

The Joker nearly bounced off of the bed as he clapped his hands and kicked his feet excitedly.

"I WIN!"

The vigilante remained silent, feeling absolute defeat.

_Pathetic._

"Now, let's look at a few images, and you tell me what you see!"

The Joker held up a stack of images for him, a crazed smile on his face.

Batman tried to come up with as many bullshit answers as he could, but it was hard to see anything else besides what first came to mind.

"Uh, ff...g...t...m..ustache."

_Flip._

"C...cat."

_Flip._

"Gun."

_Flip._

"G...gun."

The Joker raised his eyebrows at that, and continued.

"B...nothing."

He grinned, setting the images down in his lap and leaning closer to the vigilante.

"Are you sure you see nothing? Hm?" he prodded, letting a few giggles escape his lips, "you can _trust_ me. I _am_ a _doctor_, after all..."

Batman growled, "I don't see _anything_."

The Joker sighed, slipping the images back into it's envelope and standing up, "very well!"

He began walking toward the door, but he stopped and turned around, "Be a good Bat while I'm gone. Don't miss me _too_ much!"

The vigilante fumed silently as his enemy giggled and slammed the door shut, locking it up tight, as usual, and continued singing as he skipped down the hall in triumph.

_Bruce, why did you let us die? You should have stood up to him, like a real man._

He wrapped his arms around himself and turned to his side, shutting his eyes tight and praying silently for sleep to take him away from this nightmare.


End file.
